


Morning Musings of a Girl Wednesday

by Mimozka



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimozka/pseuds/Mimozka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"One would think that after three years of marriage and another three of friendship she would have had enough of watching him sleep, but if you asked Felicity, she would have told you that these moments didn’t happen as frequently as she would have liked." - a fluffy future!Olicity idea that wouldn't leave me alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Musings of a Girl Wednesday

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was originally supposed to be just Oliver and Felicity talking about his scars while lying in bed... I started writing and then this beast happened... Oh well.  
> It's set a couple of years in the future. 
> 
> Hope you like it. Your opinions are welcome.
> 
> Enjoy.

She had no idea what time it was when she woke up, however, she was well aware that she didn’t want to move from her position – ever.  She was warm and safe, snuggled close to him underneath the fluffy down-feather covers. If it were up to her, they’d both spend the rest of their lives under them – away from crazy ex-girlfriends, psychotic villains and self-righteous, idle rich assholes who thought that just because they could afford to buy the city, then they were above the law.

On this particular Saturday morning, none of these nuisances mattered; the only thing that existed was the two of them. Not Green Arrow and his Girl Wednesday, not the CEO of Queen Consolidated and his Executive Assistant – just Felicity and Oliver.

Very carefully, she extracted herself from his arms, not an easy task, considering his favorite position to sleep in was by wrapping himself around her like a cocoon.  And while sometimes his weight on her could get uncomfortable, she wouldn’t trade the feeling of his head lying on her heart , his arms pulling her as close to him as possible, for the world. It was one of the things she loved most about him. She treasured those rare moments of serenity, where they both could for a moment forget about their hectic, action-packed, dangerous, chaotic daily routines.

With the years she managed to develop some “ninja skills” of her own when it came to getting free of his hold without waking him up.  Most of the time they involved her need to use the bathroom or, if their night had been especially tiring (take that as you will), the kitchen.

Felicity was now lying on her side, facing him. She reveled in the beautiful sight that was a sleeping Oliver Queen.

One would think that after three years of marriage and another three of friendship she would have had enough of watching him sleep, but if you asked Felicity, she would have told you that these moments didn’t happen as frequently as she would have liked. One of the reasons for that was that Oliver usually woke up before she did. He then went to the kitchen to get the coffee started after which he got back to their bedroom and spent the next fifteen minutes in attempts to persuade her to leave their bed. More often than not, his waking methods did nothing to make her want get up and sometimes she even managed to drag him back in with her, not that he minded. Needless to say, that resulted in them both being awfully late for work. Being the CEO of the company and the CEO’s wife certainly had its perks.

Felicity loved the way Oliver looked when he was sleeping. At first, it used to scare her what with his nightmares being a loud and sleep-depriving mess. More often than not, they resulted in Oliver and Felicity sprawled out on the couch, in the wee hours of the night, with the TV on. Gradually, the night terrors’ intensity seemed to weaken, though. Three months into their relationship she could already tell when a nightmare was coming and she either woke him up or did the best to soothe him before his dreams took a turn for the worse. Now, if you asked Oliver, he’d probably tell you that his lessening nightmares were due to Felicity’s presence. And while that flattered her quite a bit, Felicity was certain that his being able to sleep better was due to the fact that he was finally coming to terms with his past and was no longer trying to harbor the world’s guilt in his heart.

One more thing, Oliver actually looked his age when he was sleeping. He seemed younger, more carefree, like the weight of their lives had temporarily slipped away. That’s not to say, that just because he was opening up now, he was suddenly burden-free. Oh no, he still had his fair share of broody-moments.  During his waking hours he was back to being the grumpy, irritable, stubborn-as-a-mule, justice-seeking, arrow-wielding Oliver that she knew and loved.

By now, her left hand had drifted up to his face and was lightly caressing it. Sometimes, moments like this still struck her as a bit surreal and she had trouble believing that he was hers. That’s not to say that she doubted that her place was by his side, because she didn’t. Not one bit. In fact, she was proud to stand by him, be it as his Executive Assistant, Girl Wednesday or his wife. Felicity was also not afraid to show it to the world when the occasion called for it. Unfortunately, when one is as good looking as Oliver Queen, the occasion called for it more than Felicity cared to admit. It was a widely acknowledged fact now that Oliver is – and has been for over six years – off the market. Yet some women were determined to think otherwise. To be honest, Felicity wasn’t sure whether to be amused, pity or be angry with their sad attempts at seducing her husband.

During the first year of their relationship – and later on their marriage as well – several tabloid magazines published materials on them ranging from the standard – ‘playboy cheats on girlfriend’ and ‘Could Oliver’s Queen be carrying the future Prince’ bullshit to Felicity being a gold-digger. Some even had the audacity to go as far as conjure an imaginary love triangle between herself, Oliver and Laurel.

Felicity let out an amused breath at the memory of that particular event. She remembered Oliver calling her into his office, sitting her down and explaining the situation to her with a sheepish smile and hands raised in front of him in a defensive manner. She had been thoroughly amused by Oliver’s shocked expression when she announced that she already knew, as soon as the words had left her mouth she felt her phone ring. It had been Laurel herself who called to assure her of the same thing as Oliver. After speaking to the woman, Felicity had smiled sweetly at Oliver and asked if she could use his computer for a bit, since hers was currently busy with updates.  Suffice it to say that from that day on those magazines found it very difficult to publish anything.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by her husband shifting in his sleep and pushing the covers down, resulting in the exposure of his very well defined and very naked torso. The affect he had on her five years into their relationship still amazed her.  She couldn’t help it when her hand travelled down from his face to his chest, tracing over every single scar and tattoo that she was all too familiar with. She knew the sordid stories behind them all and some of them she had tended herself.

Felicity recalled the first time she saw him naked – since they had become romantically involved that is – and how nervous Oliver seemed when he had taken his shirt off. She probably wouldn’t have believed it happened had she not been there, because in her book Oliver Queen and ‘nervous’ were mutually exclusive. Oliver Queen did not do ‘nervous’. He had hurried to explain upon seeing her baffled expression that most women found his scars repulsive, to which she countered with the proper amount of protest in her voice that: a) she was _not_ ‘most women. And b) there was very little of him that she hadn’t seen already. After that she decided that the best course of action would be to just kiss him senseless. Felicity thought that he’d put that matter to rest until he brought it up later on the same week while they were both cuddled on her bed, enjoying their post-cotial bliss. To anyone else his voice would have simply sounded curious, but Felicity knew Oliver well enough to detect the hint of concern in it. He had asked her how come his scars didn’t seem to affect her. She could see that he didn’t believe her when she told him she loved his scars. It was one of the rare occasion she’d witnessed him be at a loss for words.

 _But how can you love something so broken? –_ he had asked her, and Felicity had felt that he wasn’t only referring to his scars.

 _You are not broken. These scars are a testament of how strong and brave you are. They are a reminder of your darkest times – that you survived. You fought at times where many others would have just given up. If you didn’t have them you wouldn’t be the man you are today. A man that I love with my entire heart. So in a way, those scars brought you to me. How could I ever despise them?_  - had been her answer. It was cheesier that what she intended, but it was a truth she could not deny. And in true Felicity fashion it had taken her a moment to realize that she had just professed her love for him.

He’d said nothing at first. His silence stretching out long enough for her to start panicking that maybe the ‘L word’ would make him cower in fear and run – as he’d done many times in the past. But this time it was Oliver’s turn to surprise her. He had leaned down and kissed her with so much emotion that she didn’t actually need to hear him say the words back after they parted for breath. Her fear that he’d run crumbled. She felt it in his kiss that he loved her, too. However, she’d lie if she said that it didn’t make her giddy when he’d returned the sentiment once their air supply was back to normal.

Oliver’s unintelligible grumble pulled her away from her trip down the memory lane and back to the present.

“You’re doing it again.” Oliver muttered into his pillow, his voice thick with sleep.

Felicity chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry, I can’t help it.”

Oliver then lifted himself up slowly so that he was resting on one elbow. “Why do you keep watching me sleep?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Why do you watch me get ready in the mornings?” Felicity countered with a smirk.

“Because you’re beautiful and I love you.”

“There you have it then.” She winked at him and leaned in to kiss him good morning.


End file.
